


There Could Be Bears

by felypsa



Category: Marvel, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felypsa/pseuds/felypsa
Summary: After an avalanche pens them into a cave, Jean-Paul and Bobby spend the night together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soulofevil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofevil/gifts), [ZodiacFusion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacFusion/gifts).



> I have no excuse for this. I know the setup is kind of harebrained, but I just wanted to do something cute for my friends who love these gay idiots.

Before tonight, if anyone tried to suggest to Jean-Paul that he would ever be uncomfortable or unhappy in the _Rocheuses canadiennes_ —the Canadian Rockies—he would laughed them out of the ski lodge and gleefully sent them careening down the snowy slopes. He might as well have been born on these mountains for how naturally he knew their unique curves, the change in atmosphere and climate, the hardy flora and fauna that survived year-round. This was his _home._ How could he have ever found it unpleasant?

Tonight, he found out.

_Avalanches._

When Scott sent him and Bobby on a special mission to Mount Robson in British Columbia, they had been aware of the dangers the elements presented. They were the two X-Men most likely to be able to contain the unique threat on the tall Canadian peak, which was allegedly the hideout of a particularly powerful and bitter Inhuman who had been ostracized by his community. After intentionally summoning a destructive tornado that tore up his hometown, the Inhuman, Vance Denison, pulled an Elsa and up the mountain.

Scott was hoping that Bobby and Jean-Paul could reason with Vance first and offer him a chance to get help. After all, they knew what it was like to suddenly find yourself with superpowers, and understood the kind of rejection that Vance was going through. But Scott also warned that Vance did already have a bit of a violent history _before_ he underwent Terrigenesis, so there was a precedence of behavioral issues. They might have to find a more forceful way to contain him…but battling someone with control over the elements while on the tallest peak in Canada was no easy task. 

So who better to send than the guy who wouldn’t get cold and the guy who knew Canadian mountains better than anyone (and fly super-fast, to boot)? 

Even with their extremely mobile powers, the duo had to gear up for a trip up the mountain. With Northstar’s speed, he could accelerate the journey tremendously, and it would take them less than a day to find Vance’s lair, but the mountain itself was no joke. They had to be prepared for anything. 

Sunlight gleamed blindingly off the fresh powder of the mountain as they struck out from the lodge where they’d stayed the night. They had no plans on spending the night in the cold embrace of the slopes, but they’d packed a tent and bedrolls just in case. Due to his increased strength, Jean-Paul bore most of the supplies, something that he complained about whenever he got a chance as they labored uphill. Even with his super-fast flight and Bobby’s smooth ice slides, it was a journey.

But there was something to be said for his companion—Bobby was able to laugh off even the bitterest of Jean-Paul’s gripes, and his easy humor and optimism had the unexpected effect of dislodging Jean-Paul’s sunken-in jadedness. The Canadian didn’t know if it made it better or worse that Bobby seemed to be oblivious to the effect of his own charms. 

Worse, quite possibly. There was nothing that Jean-Paul could do about it.

But no matter how many good-natured puns Bobby told, neither of them was prepared for the arrival of Vance. It turned out that they wouldn’t even get a chance to talk. He’d gone full hermit mode, and that meant a rather _aggressive_ defense. The X-Men duo figured out when they’d reached his hideout because of one very obvious sign: getting slammed by a wave of solid, impacted air that tossed them back and sent them tumbling down the steep path they’d just crested.

Bobby quickly formed a curved ice wall to catch them before they slid down any further. Setting aside their backpacks, Jean-Paul immediately took to the sky, swearing that the surprise attack was going to be the _only_ hit that Vance got on them.

You’d think that by now he would know better than to make cocky declarations like that. The level of bitchiness that karma was capable of was high enough to make Jean-Paul’s sass seem like a deflated balloon by comparison. 

In the end, it didn’t matter that they had years of combat experience, that they worked together well, or that their abilities could have easily overpowered their opponent if they had been literally _anywhere else._ It only mattered that a tantrum-throwing Inhuman with aerokinesis could hit the unstable arrangement of the mountainside _just right,_ and just like that…it was no longer a fight to contain a violent superpowered troublemaker. It was a fight to survive.

Jean-Paul only had a glimpse of Vance, his face contorted in wild fury, before he took off high in the sky as the wave of snow barreled down the mountain. Jean-Paul cursed, wanting to go after him, but with the impending avalanche, he had another priority. Focusing his super speed, he swooped down to grab Bobby off the surface of the mountain and just managed to snatch one of their backpacks before trying to outrun the onrush. For his part, Bobby shot out large panes of ice to try to redirect the wave, but they just got swallowed up by the devastation.

It felt like the whole mountain was coming down—surely not the case, but it wasn’t going to be so easy to get away from. Jean-Paul quickly made a judgment call about the likelihood of their escape. So when he saw an opening to a cavern just below the surface, he dove for it, getting them inside with only seconds to spare. “Close it up!” he shouted at Bobby, who was slightly dazed but not so much so that he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Immediately he sealed off the entrance with a thick wall of ice, and they both laid low as the monstrous rumble of the avalanche passed over them. 

It was only in that moment that Jean-Paul realized how tapped out he was. From the trying journey up the mountain to the use of his powers in the short but intense fight to their desperate escape, he could feel his body crying out for energy. He slumped against the cave wall, breathing in deeply. “Vance got away,” he growled. “When this ends…I will get us out of here and chase him down.” 

Bobby looked back at him, and for once, the known jokester looked serious. “I don’t know, JP. It’s kind of late. By this time this ends, the sun will be down and we’ll be buried. It might be better to just hold out until morning, when we can dig ourselves out more safely. And by then…Vance will be long gone.” 

Until the morning? Jean-Paul closed his eyes. It seemed like an eternity away, and it stung to know that they had utterly failed their mission and would have to start from scratch to find their target. But he had to admit that it wasn’t entirely safe to dig through layers of snow at night. Instead of answering, he reached for the backpack that he’d managed to save. It had water, snacks, and some basic medical supplies…but not much else. Wordlessly, Jean-Paul grabbed a handful of granola bars and proceeded to tear the wrappers off of them. He wouldn’t get very far if he didn’t eat anything.

Perhaps picking up his sour mood, Bobby moved a little closer to him, a good-natured smile on his face. “Hey, this could be fun,” he said, reaching for one of the water bottles. “A real tough-it-out survival adventure, huh? We could probably sell our story to Discovery Channel and they’ll make a dramatic reenactment out of our experience.” He reached down to the ground and raised his hand up, forming a sculpture of an ice sofa as he went. “Only our experience is way better than most people’s because we can make our own furniture.”

Jean-Paul arched his eyebrow high as he stared at the sofa. “I don’t think sleeping on a couch made of ice is _more_ comfortable than shivering in a bedroll.” He crunched into the first granola and devoured it within seconds, moving on to the second.

Bobby, meanwhile, chugged about half the water bottle in one go. Whereas Jean-Paul needed calories to recuperate his powers, Bobby needed moisture. He pulled the bottle back with a gasp. “You don’t think it makes you feel more at home?” Grinning, he stood up and walked around the cave, ice springing from his hands wherever he went. In just a couple of minutes, he’d formed a whole living room setup of ice—a big flat-screen TV, coffee table, ottoman, and even a dog and a cat. “See? I already feel cozier.” He flopped down onto the sofa and propped his legs up on the ottoman. 

Jean-Paul stared at the display. How did Bobby maintain such a lackadaisical attitude? It helped that the cold never bothered him anyway, but even so, it was like he was determined to make lemonade out of even the most rotten lemons. “That’s all very nice, but what we need most right is fire. Or what I need most.” He swallowed the dry granola bar, feeling some of his energy coming back. Just enough to zip around in the cave, exploring every nook and cranny, and come back to the center with just a few sticks. He gathered them up into a pile, and with another burst of super-speed, managed to get enough friction from one of the sticks to start a small sizzle. Cupping his hands around it, he blew gently until the rest of the little pile caught fire.

When he looked up, Bobby was watching him from his spot on the sofa. Their gazes crossed briefly, and Bobby glanced away. “Didn’t know you were a Boy Scout on top of being an Olympian.” 

“I wasn’t. Every Canadian is born with the knowledge of how to survive in the wilderness.” Jean-Paul grinned, feeling some of his humor coming back now that he had food in his belly and a fire going (albeit a small one). 

Bobby snorted. “I knew it. See? We’re going to be fine.” 

Northstar rolled his eyes. “Yes. No thanks to you.” He moved back to the backpack, digging through its contents rapidly. After a moment, he paused. _“Merde.”_

“What’s wrong?”

Jean-Paul inhaled slowly. “There’s no bedroll in this pack. They must have been left behind in the other.” 

“Ohhh…” Bobby tapped his chin. “Yeah, I do recall putting both bedrolls in one of them. I’m not sure why I did that…”

Jean-Paul turned around to stare at him. “I’m not sure why _anyone_ would do that. Bobby…what are we going to do? I can’t sleep on these rocks.” 

“Okay, okay, no. We’re going to be fine. You know why?” Bobby reached for the water bottle and chugged the rest of it. 

Jean-Paul, seeing where this was going, said, “No—please—”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve seen it!” Iceman knelt down to the ground near the fire, his hands hovering about a foot above it, and began to create a mattress out of ice. It was deeply concave, almost like a depressed hammock, and he thoughtfully put in a divot that looked like it was meant to support the head. Once he was finished, he popped up to his feet and gestured at the final product, beaming. “One perfectly customized Cool Bed—trademark—for your comfort and satisfaction, good sir.”

The speedster palmed the side of his face, staring down at the smooth, gleaming bed of ice. There was no way he was going to sleep well tonight, despite his physical exhaustion. And yet…he had to concede it was better than the uneven ground. If he had to sleep cold, this was the best option he had. He let out a long sigh. “It will have to do. Four Seasons, it’s _not.”_

“More like One Season,” Bobby agreed, chortling at his own joke as he bent down to create a matching bed for himself. “But it could be worse, right?”

It was a ludicrous thing to say, and as Jean-Paul went to dig through the backpack for anything soft that he could put in the bed, all of his exasperation at the situation snapped out of him in a single word: _“How?”_

“There could be bears,” Bobby deadpanned. 

Jean-Paul stopped what he was doing and stared at him for a full minute. Bobby flopped into his ice bed and gave him an unflappable grin and a thumb’s up. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Jean-Paul settled into his own cold, hard bed, arranging the backpack in the head-divot to best approximate a pillow. “Yeah,” he conceded, staring up at the scraggly cave ceiling, “there could be bears.”


	2. Chapter 2

How Bobby could sleep so well was beyond Jean-Paul—he could even hear the occasional light snoring coming from the adjacent makeshift bed. While Jean-Paul had to admit that the curved nature of the bed was a _little_ more comfortable than the flat ground, there was nothing else that helped him. It was only due to his sheer fatigue that he was able to doze off periodically, and even then, he was too cold for it to be a _true_ sleep. Rather, it felt more like bursts of hallucinations in between fitful tossing and turning. 

He tried to keep the fire going as much as he could, but since there wasn’t much in the way of firewood, there was only so much he could do before it fizzled out. He dug into the backpack for the rest of the rations. Leaving just a spare amount for Bobby in the morning, the speedster devoured the nonperishable food, just enough to get some of his energy back. With a few deep breaths, he began to vibrate at a super-fast speed, just to generate some warmth.

He was a little too successful, and once the ice bed started hissing with steam, he realized his mistake. He closed his eyes. His fatigue was making him stupid. There was only one other option for keeping warm until morning, and it was one that he had been trying to ignore. With a heavy sigh, he gave in, forcing himself into an upright position and glancing over at Bobby.

“Drake.” 

Bobby snored loudly and turned over on his side. Jean-Paul rolled his eyes.

“Drake. _Bobby.”_

He snorted himself awake, blinking up at his teammate.

Jean-Paul swallowed. The one time he _needed_ to be shameless…“I need to cuddle with you. I’m freezing.” 

It was too dark to make out Bobby’s exact expression, and Jean-Paul half-considered using some of his precious energy reserves to try to generate enough light to see the details in his face. But it would have been a waste. After a couple of seconds, Bobby said, “Yeah, sure. Totally. Come on in.”

Jean-Paul sighed in relief, slipping out of his ice bed and into Bobby’s. He tried to fall back on his usual arrogance to get through this. “Are you a big spoon or little spoon kind of guy?” he said with a smirk. If they joked about it, they wouldn’t have to acknowledge how unusual and uncomfortable this was, right? 

Bobby gave a small chuckle. “I usually find myself the big spoon, but between you and me, I think everyone likes to be held every now and then. In this case, you should probably be little, because you’re the one who’s freezing his little tushie off.”

Jean-Paul snorted. “It’s not so little. You should see all the squats I do.” 

“I’ve seen,” Bobby mumbled, so quietly that Jean-Paul wondered if he imagined it. Nonetheless, he curled up with his back to Iceman and tried to ignore how quickly his heart accelerated when Bobby put his arms around him and pulled him close to his body warmth. He kept himself tense, but after a few seconds, he realized there was no point. He wouldn’t get to sleep if he didn’t let himself relax. 

“That better?” he heard Bobby mutter as he rested his face against Jean-Paul’s back. 

The speedster kept his breathing controlled. “Yes. Thank you.”

It wasn’t long before he heard Bobby’s telltale snoring, but Jean-Paul would be up a little longer, trying to take as much warmth from this position as he could…without taking too much hope. 


	3. Chapter 3

He woke up in Bobby’s arms; neither of them had moved for the rest of the night. He still felt cold, shivering slightly, but hopefully he had staved off hypothermia for now. He started to get up, but Bobby’s arms automatically tightened around him, and Jean-Paul froze, every cell in his body now focused on that interesting development. 

But then he heard Bobby yawn, and his grip loosened, and they naturally separated as two individuals. Northstar exhaled, turning his head ( _God_ that was a hell of a cramp in his neck) to look at his companion. Bobby was still waking up, but he turned his head to look back at him, and he gave a lazy smile that tugged at something in Jean-Paul’s gut. “Morning, sunshine.”

Jean-Paul couldn’t help but smile back. “I hope it is morning, and I hope we do have sunshine.” 

Bobby chuckled and sat up, and just like that, the moment was over. Jean-Paul let it go for now. They had to work to do. He still felt weakened; sleep had helped rejuvenate him _somewhat,_ but he needed to conserve every bit of energy to super-speed them out of here once they cracked the surface. They needed to get back to civilization, needed to refuel properly.

Before that, Bobby had to free them. He guzzled another water bottle down in seconds, scarfed down the remaining snacks, and set to work. Jean-Paul offered to help, but Bobby assured him that he could do this on his own. Jean-Paul wound up lounging on the ice sofa, watching as Bobby spent at least an hour carefully manipulating his ice wall into a tunnel. It was slow going, carving through the layers of impacted snow, burrowing forward bit by bit. Though Jean-Paul felt useless, he had to admit that Bobby came through for them, even on very little sustenance.

And then finally, all at once…sunlight broke through. 

Jean-Paul sat up on the couch as the first beams of true light filled the small cavern. Despite his hunger, despite his fatigue, he was instantly rejuvenated, and with a burst of super-speed, he darted through Bobby’s tunnel to catch up to his companion. While Bobby was forming a solid platform for them to step out onto, Jean-Paul whisked him off his feet and spun him around in a spontaneous celebratory dance.

“We’re free!” he crowed. Bobby let out a startled laugh as they came to a halt on the pane of ice, his eyes a dazzling blue as he looked up at Northstar. 

“Aw man, and here I thought you liked spending time with me in my ice cave.”

Jean-Paul slowly came to a halt, but kept his arms locked around Bobby’s waist. Heartbeat reverberating loudly in his ears, he risked leaning his forehead against the other man’s. “I hated the ice cave,” he said lowly, “but you were the best part of it.” 

He couldn’t help but smile as redness colored Bobby’s cheeks. The man had been impervious to the effects of the cold air all night long, so this was something else. 

They stayed in that position long enough for Jean-Paul to wonder if maybe he dared to take it one step further—to close that final gap between their faces—and he had to admit, if only to himself, that it was something he had fantasized about in the moments when he allowed himself to be foolish and weak. But he hadn’t known if any of those feelings would be welcome. 

Now, with the sight of that single blush, he was beginning to rethink that.

But Bobby withdrew with a short, self-conscious laugh before Jean-Paul could capitalize on the moment, and he let him go. For now. “Well, we still gotta get ourselves back to town pronto,” Bobby said, gliding to the end of the ice path. “I could eat like ten Big Macs and fifty Twinkies right now.” 

Jean-Paul nodded, but he was distracted now, the corners of his lips pulling up in a smirk. “Agreed. And I wouldn’t say no to a nice long soak in the lodge’s hot tub…” He slid easily along the path to catch up with Bobby. “Or to some company.” 

Bobby glanced at him, looking confused, and opened his mouth to say something. But then he closed it and looked down at the ground. “Anyway, at least we know that going down is easier than going up.” He held up his hands. “I might be kind of dehydrated now, though, so…” He cleared his throat and side-glanced at Jean-Paul. “Maybe it can be your turn to be the big spoon?”

The bumbling, flirtatious words sparked a fire in Jean-Paul, and he let out a knowing laugh. He darted forward, scooping Bobby up into his arms, and smirked down at him. “Everyone likes to be held every now and then, hm?” Keeping him close to his chest, Northstar stared down the snow-covered mountain. Once again, it felt like home, and he knew exactly what to do.

The mission might have been a failure…but that didn’t mean the whole excursion was a waste of time.


End file.
